


i wanna hug you (wanna wrap my hands around your neck)

by Lysippe



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/F, and Zari is useless, in which Charlie has a crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 01:53:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17540438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysippe/pseuds/Lysippe
Summary: “Would you just pull the bloody stick out of your arse for two seconds and listen to me? I’m trying to tell you something important.”Charlie’s jaw is clenched, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. She is looking increasingly frantic, increasingly like a caged animal. Something about the expression on her face makes Zari’s insides twist. It’s the same look Charlie gave her when she was actually trapped. When she had accused Zari of keeping people in cages. Of doing to her, what Argus had done to Zari. To her family. To everyone else like her.It made her sick then, and it makes her sick now.





	i wanna hug you (wanna wrap my hands around your neck)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iliveinfantasies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iliveinfantasies/gifts).



> This was written as a response to a Tumblr prompt from @iliveinfantasylife (or, iliveinfantasies here), for: "things you said through your teeth." 
> 
> I've never written Zarlie before, and I don't think I've ever read any either, so this was a fun little foray into the unknown, but I do have some interest in continuing to write it. They're a fun couple to write, and I love their dynamic. They're not my particular rabbit hole at the moment, but who knows what the future holds lol

“Would you just pull the bloody stick out of your arse for two seconds and  _ listen to me _ ? I’m trying to tell you something important.”

Charlie’s jaw is clenched, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. She is looking increasingly frantic, increasingly like a caged animal. Something about the expression on her face makes Zari’s insides twist. It’s the same look Charlie gave her when she was  _ actually  _ trapped. When she had accused Zari of keeping people in cages. Of doing to her, what Argus had done to Zari. To her family. To everyone else like her.

It made her sick then, and it makes her sick now.

And as much as Charlie gets on her very last nerve -- as much as Zari desperately wants to say  _ I doubt that,  _ or  _ try being a little nicer about it _ , or anything else that would be completely deserved but incredibly hypocritical, coming from her -- she can’t quite bring herself to respond in kind.

Because it’s not like the has the most stellar track record when it comes to winning people over, either.

Instead, Zari drums her fingers impatiently against her bicep and says, “You haven’t  _ told  _ me anything, yet.”

Charlie is glaring harder than ever, but Zari sees the ripple of insecurity beneath the carefully curated scowl. An unfortunate side-effect of Sara constantly relegating her to the B-team is that she has gotten weirdly good at reading the minutiae of Charlie’s mannerisms. 

“Well, it’s a tiny bit personal, and when I asked if I could come into your room so I can say it in private, you just stared at me like I asked you to eat your own foot.”

“To be fair, you’ve been directly complicit in me being turned into a cat -- and left that way -- not once, but twice. You’re pretty low on my list of trustworthy people.” 

Still, Zari steps aside, and motions for Charlie to enter.

Charlie closes the door behind her with a good deal more force than Zari thinks is necessary. When Zari turns around to look at her, Charlie is fidgeting again, tapping the toe of one studded combat boot against the floor and pursing her lips. But she also looks a little like she’s about to throw up. 

Zari resists the urge to tell her to please not puke in her room, but just barely. 

Kindness never was her strong suit.

“Okay, out with it. You’re being weird and it’s wigging me out.” It’s the wrong thing to say, and Zari knows it, but finding the  _ right  _ thing to say -- and then actually saying it -- isn’t her strong suit, either.

And suddenly, Charlie looks like the words have been sucked right out of her. Her mouth opens, but all Zari hears is a strangled sort of “Yeah…” as she looks at the floor, the walls, Zari’s bedside table. Anywhere but actually at Zari.

Zari feels a pang of something she’s pretty sure is sympathy, and she tries, for a moment, to think of what the right thing to do in this situation is. Of what a better, nicer person would do.

Of what Amaya would do.

Reaching out slowly, tentatively, Zari places one hand awkwardly on Charlie’s shoulder, watching for any sign that this might be helpful. Or that it might not, which is much more likely. Charlie’s eyes shoot up, meeting hers with an intensity Zari wasn’t expecting. But there’s no hostility there, no anger, no spark. Just surprise and something Zari is pretty sure is vulnerability.

“Or, we can sit down, first?” It’s pretty much the dumbest suggestion Zari can make, since she doesn’t actually have any chairs in her room. But Charlie goes along with it anyway, walking over to Zari’s bed and flopping down on it dramatically.

By the time Zari sits down gingerly beside her, Charlie is back to staring at her intently.

It’s still unnerving, but Zari doesn’t say it this time. 

“Okay, seriously. I’m probably not going to bite your head off, so you might as well just say whatever it is that has you so…” Zari pauses, thinks for a moment, then shrugs. “You know.”

Charlie lets out a sharp bark of laughter. “Yeah I do, love. It’s just been a while since a pretty girl got me all tongue tied.”

Oh.

_ Oh. _

Zari’s eyes widen. She can feel the heat rushing entirely too fast to her cheeks, and she kind of wants to bury her face in her sweater, or her pillow, or anything else, to hide it. Or maybe she wants to run away. Not that running away from her own bedroom would do her much good. Instead, she just sits there, stupidly, frozen in place.

Charlie shrugs Zari’s hand away, and her expression becomes unreadable. “Anyway, just thought I’d let you know. In the interest of honesty and all that bullshit. And now that you do, and I’ve made a right idiot of myself, I’m going to go get plastered enough to forget that it happened.”

Charlie is already halfway to the door when Zari finally finds her voice.

“You’re really fucking dramatic, you know that?” She winces as she says it, and lets out an aggravated groan at her own uselessness where feelings are concerned. 

But Charlie stops, and turns around, and Zari thinks it’s possible that she sees the hint of a smile on her lips. This, at least, is more familiar territory for them both.

“I might’ve been told that before.” Zari still can’t quite figure out what Charlie is actually thinking, but at least she’s stopped actively moving away for the time being.

Not that she’ll stay that way if Zari fucks it up again.

“You never gave me a chance to actually respond, you know,” Zari says, and it comes out a little more waspish, a little more impatient, than she means for it to. But Charlie just keeps staring at her. “And you also didn’t actually  _ tell  _ me anything,” she says. Because there is some serious clarification needed before she can even begin to figure out where to go from here.

Before she can figure out how she feels.

Charlie frowns, and the mask cracks. “What more do you want to know?”

Zari swallows, and she moves so she is curled up in a ball, her hands pressed between her knees. At least this way, Charlie won’t see her picking at her fingernails. “All you told me was that… was that you think I’m pretty,” she says, at last. “And I think there’s more, maybe, but I’m not a damn mind reader, and I can’t understand emotions for shit, so that’s not much for me to go on.”

“For fuck’s sake, are you seriously asking me to tell you that I have a bloody  _ crush  _ on you?” The outburst explodes into the air between them, and Charlie at least has the good grace to look somewhat abashed afterward. She walks back over to Zari’s bed, standing uncomfortably over her.

“Well,  _ do you _ ?” 

Charlie sighs and throws herself dramatically onto the bed. Zari’s legs fly out, unprepared for the sudden percussive force tossing her about. 

“Where does it leave us if I say yes?” Charlie asks, as though that doesn’t answer the question.

“I guess it leaves me needing to figure a few things out,” Zari says heavily, and she can actually  _ see  _ Charlie tense.

“What kind of things? Because if I read this totally wrong and--”

Zari cuts her off. “I don’t exactly date much. I spent most of my life running from ARGUS and trying not to be… well, put in a cage. And my options are pretty limited here. At least, they are since I don’t have Sara’s charisma and raw sexual appeal.” Her laugh is a little harsher than she necessarily intends for it to be, a little more bitter, even though she hasn’t actually been  _ interested  _ in anyone, really. 

Except, maybe, Charlie.

Which she hadn’t thought about until right now.

But no one ever accused Zari of being self-aware.

Charlie purses her lips. “Well, no pressure. I mean, like, obviously one day I’d like an answer. But if you’re not into it right now, or at all, I can take rejection. I’m a big girl.”

Zari doesn’t roll her eyes, and she’s honestly kind of proud of herself. This is probably the wrong time to be quite as much herself as she would like. But she does frown at Charlie’s theatrics. “Can I just have like, two minutes to think about this?”

“Is that my cue to leave?”

This time, Zari does roll her eyes. “No, it’s your cue to shut up for two minutes so my brain can catch up.”

Charlie nods, and to Zari’s immense relief, she averts her eyes, staring up at the ceiling as she taps one index finger against her thigh impatiently. She’s giving Zari the time she asked for, but not graciously. 

And Zari can’t help thinking about the unintentional grace with which Charlie does everything, no matter how obnoxious. About the little twinkle in her eyes when she gives Zari a hard time, that always makes her stomach flop a little unpleasantly. About the fact that she has Amaya’s face and Amaya’s voice, but she never,  _ ever  _ wanted to touch Amaya like this, and…

Oh,  _ fuck _ .

“Yeah, I suck at this,” Zari says at last, and it’s not her best opening line, but it’s definitely not her worst, either.

Charlie looks back down at her, but doesn’t say anything. 

“The whole feelings thing,” Zari clarifies. “Specifically, realizing that… I might have them. For you.”

She thinks this is what teenagers must feel like with their first crush. Except she was never that kind of teenager. So apparently she gets to get it all out of her system in her late twenties, instead, which is really just  _ awesome _ .

But Charlie lights up immediately. Zari wouldn’t say the look on her face is excited, per se, but it definitely looks like Charlie is trying pretty hard to keep it that way. 

“So, is that a yes?”

She’s going to make Zari say it. Of course she’s going to make Zari say it. With a great sigh, Zari reaches out and places her hand over the one still tapping out an uneven rhythm. She feels a little awkward doing it, but Charlie’s hand is warmer and softer in hers than Zari expected it to be. She doesn’t pull away, so Zari supposes she can’t be too far off track here.

“Yes,” she says. “That’s a yes. At least for now. But no promises. This is still… I think a lot newer to me than it is to you.”

The shit-eating grin that always,  _ always  _ prefaces some infuriating remark comes back, and Charlie nudges Zari with her shoulder. “Wait, does this mean you’re a virgin?”

“For  _ fuck’s sake _ , Charlie, do not make me regret this already.” 

But Zari is smiling, and she can’t seem to make herself stop, which is kind of mortifying, but also, she thinks, kind of nice.

**Author's Note:**

> Join me on Tumblr @ thebestdressedrebelinhistory


End file.
